An autumn gale had come from the south, over the seafront promenade to batter the hedges and gardens along the half-mile of Grand Avenue. At the north-east corner of Dolphin Lodge, through gaps in veteran window-frames the wind made a wavering chord, rising and falling, the sound resembling an orchestra`s string section, closer to a sound-effect than actual composition. Ideal, I thought, for a nineteen-forties black and white film, a costume drama perhaps, set in storm-clouded moorland, where a highwayman`s cloak might swirl across the opening sequence. I remembered the `Gainsborough Lady`, inclining her head in gracious acknowledgement, her direct smile to the audience breaking the `Fourth Wall`.
Above wet rooftop reflections of an evening sky, a group of seven tall lamp posts at a road junction on the wide avenue commenced their flicker into sodium-yellow brightness. Seen from my window as a shining circle in perspective, they began to cast light on a tree still in full leaf below, where yellow light and shade were creating on its leaves a surprisingly realistic bronze-green cameo-portrait of a Victorian lady, her elaborate coiffure, rounded forehead, ears, eyes, nose, mouth and chin all clearly shown, with the wind`s disturbance to the leaves making her appear to be in impassioned speech. I found myself composing screen sub-titles for an invisible audience.
Every few moments, agitation of the leaves forming her face and features gave evidence that the Lady was in considerable distress.
She seemed to be describing an injustice, with herself not at fault, not to be blamed. Her upbringing having accustomed her to discretion and restraint, she would from time to time compose herself, be for a while calm, but then, suddenly overcome by the unfairness of it all, her head would be desperately shaken from side to side in protest amid the wind`s uproar.
A reason for the Lady`s obvious unhappiness arrived in my mind:
The circle of lights, now diamond-bright jewels in the dark sky, were a legacy, a valuable inheritance, and an unwelcome responsibility,
a Tiara of Damocles.
J.T.M
Picture Nick Victor
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